In the small village of Gammot lived many well-to-do people. Like all other small villages, there was not much excitement to be talked of, no scary or fantastic tales to tell, and everyone had pretty much lived there for his or her entire life. Few foreigners were known in the village. Most of them were travelers, stopping by for only a night’s rest, then on the move again.

There are those, however, who have an inborn curiosity about them. The ones who ask questions when no one else thinks to ask. Zarek Jasomir was one of those people. He was always interested in going outside the village and travelling to far away lands.

When Zarek was a teenager, a platoon of soldiers had stopped through his village. They were on their way to Russia, and had been marching for several days without proper rest. One of the soldiers in particular entertained Zarek. He told the boy great tales that only whetted his hunger for adventure.

“There is an enchanted forest in these parts, my boy…”